


Wherever You Go, I Go

by FearlessFreep



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FearlessFreep/pseuds/FearlessFreep
Summary: WildeHopps one shot collection.  Fluff.
Relationships: Judy Hopps/Nick Wilde
Comments: 19
Kudos: 80





	1. Coffee Date

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing random drabbles to help get past my writer's block on my other fic, and the next thing I knew I had one shots. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why didn't you think I was coming?"
> 
> He shrugged and became fixated on the menu, even though she knew he had to have it memorized by now. "Well, you know… didn't want to assume anything after your hot date last night."
> 
> Right. That.

Two things were unusual about Judy's morning.

The first thing was a text from her partner.

_still meeting at coffee hut?_

Considering she was about two steps outside of Coffee Hut, she frowned at the text. They always met at Coffee Hut before morning shifts unless otherwise stated. And she wasn't even late. She was a full three minutes early. So why would Nick be questioning their routine? Unless… was it about last night?

Which reminded Judy of the second thing about that morning that was unusual. That would be the very small and very new jolt that went through her at the sight of the text. From her partner. From her friend. From Nick.

Frowning further still, she stepped inside. She spotted Nick staring at his phone while waiting in line – even dwarfed by two hippos his red fur was hard to miss – and texted back _look behind you._ She watched Nick's ears flick back before he turned around. When he caught her eye his face lit up for the briefest moment – did he look relieved? – before it was replaced with a smirk. The warm, silly one that was reserved just for her. The one that made his whole face soften, save for the small glint of excitement in his eyes and wow, his fur looked _really_ good this morning for some reason –

To Judy's extreme discomfort, she felt another jolt. A big one.

If she could have dismissed the first one as something she'd imagined in her very sleep deprived state, this one was real. An actual, swoop in her stomach that sent a small thrill up her spine and straight through her ears.

This could not be happening.

"You still with me, Carrots?"

Judy blinked. Nick was looking at her with a hint of wariness, and she realized she'd been staring. A single ear twitched before her brain kicked back into gear and she shook herself.

"Sorry, er – just thinking about what I wanted. I mean what drink! What _drink_ I wanted."

Nick's wariness was rapidly turning into concern. He still watched her as she took her spot by his side. Suddenly terrified that he could somehow read her mind, Judy quickly sought a distraction. "Why didn't you think I was coming?"

He shrugged and became fixated on the menu, even though she knew he had to have it memorized by now. "Well, you know… didn't want to assume anything after your hot date last night."

Right. That.

* * *

Barry Quickfoot was perfect on paper. A bunny in his late twenties, he'd grown up in the tri-burrows before moving to Zootopia to pursue his doctorate. That's how Judy had met him, actually. A resident at Savannah General, Barry had been the one to sterilize the nasty puncture wound she'd received chasing down a perp ("You really need to watch where you're going when you run," Nick had sighed as he helped her limp into the ER). Barry caught her completely by surprise when he asked her out to dinner, and not just because he'd been packing her with gauze at the time. Getting asked out by a handsome doctor seemed like something that only happened on television. Plus, after the initial bout of admirers she'd received after the Missing Mammals case, Judy wasn't exactly overwhelmed with dating opportunities. If she wasn't working, she was probably playing silly card games with Nick at his apartment.

She'd almost turned Barry down. She'd wanted to go to the park after work, maybe trick Nick into running some laps with her. But her sisters' voices echoed in her head – "You're missing your prime carefree dating years!" "A whole city of rabbits who probably aren't related to you somehow!" – and she decided to take the plunge.

Judy gave Barry her number. He was already texting her while she was signing her discharge papers. Nick noticed, and she'd expected him to tease her about getting a date out of a puncture wound. But to her surprise he'd gone unusually quiet, and only started questioning her about Barry on the way home. When Nick "I know everybody" Wilde did not know Barry the would-be bunny anesthesiologist, he'd continued his assault of questions all the way to her apartment. Judy, who'd only just met Barry that afternoon, did not seem to have the answers that Nick wanted.

* * *

"Oh please," Judy scoffed, crossing her arms. "I don't know what your first dates are like Wilde, but it was _not_ a late night."

"I'm nothing if not a gentlefox," Nick said, gesturing grandly to himself. She snickered. He continued to watch her though. "Saving it for the third date then?"

Judy rolled her eyes. "There's not going to be a second date, let alone a third."

His ears perked up. "Oh?"

"Not a love connection," Judy said lightly.

* * *

"Is this your first time at Misty's, Judy?" Barry asked over his salad.

Judy glanced around the restaurant. It was a perfect first date pick. Upscale, but not too fancy. Trendy, but not obnoxiously so. Lovely location in the Rainforest District. Lots of young mammals taking pictures of their meals with their phones. Nick always enjoyed her befuddlement over that phenomenon.

"It is," Judy said, smiling. "My partner talks about it, but we'd never gotten around to going."

Nick, having lived in the Rainforest District for some time, had naturally known about _Misty's on the Vine_. But according to him there were other "hidden gems" that only he, Nick "I also know every _where_ too" Wilde, could introduce her to. And introduce her he did. Nick had been appalled to find out she'd never tried sushi before, so he took her to a place along that docks that only sat six mammals at a time. And there was the ice bar in Tundratown – it was literally carved right into the ice – and afterwards they'd gone ice skating just because she wanted to. Though in hindsight it maybe wasn't the brightest idea to go on a slippery ice rink while they were slightly tipsy, and they couldn't stop giggling as they tumbled into each other –

"So, you like your partner?"

Judy coughed awkwardly on an artichoke. "I – what?"

"Your police partner? You like working with him?"

"Oh, you mean like professionally," Judy said hoarsely, hitting her chest with her fist to clear it, "Like as work partners. Professional ones."

"Um… yes?" Even Barry's confusion was polite.

"Right. Of course. Nick… Nick's great. I couldn't imagine having anyone else for a partner, really. We have a great back and forth. And he keeps it fun, too. I mean, I love my job, but it certainly has its dull moments. But Nick always finds a way to keep it interesting. Oh, like just the other day, we were catching up on paperwork and he was doing these impressions of the other officers and it was just _so_ funny and then he… um…"

Barry was watching her with a slightly bemused expression. Judy supposed he should be, given that she was spending a good portion of their dinner date gushing about another male. But Barry couldn't know that it didn't mean anything. Nick was her partner, her friend. It was natural that she should speak highly of him. Nick wasn't someone Barry should feel was any type of competition. After all, Barry was the one who'd asked her out on a date, Nick had simply taken her to all those other places because, well…

"So, to summarize, you like working with your partner?" Barry prompted with good humor.

Judy breathed out a laugh, feeling some of her tension release. Why she was starting to feel tense, she had no idea. First date jitters, perhaps? "Yes, I guess I made that pretty clear. What about you? How are the other residents?"

* * *

"Ah," Nick said sagely, "I see, I see. What was it? Bad table manners? Did he forget to change out of his scrubs? Try to talk epidurals over the candlelight?"

Judy laughed. "No! Barry was _nothing if not a gentlebunny_."

"Throwing my words back at me, very clever. Usually means you're hiding something, but still, clever. You know, for you."

Judy flicked an ear to swat his shoulder. Even that brief, silly amount of contact was enough to elicit another jolt. This one had that same ear reddening, and without thinking she threw a paw up to sweep her ears down and out of sight. Nick frowned at her.

"Seriously, what happened at this date?"

"Nothing!"

"Carrots, you're acting… weird. Weirder than normal."

"I'm not weird. And I told you, there's nothing to tell. He took me to Misty's, we had dinner, and then I went home. There you go, that was my thrilling evening."

Nick snorted. " _Misty's_. Of course he took you there."

"It was good!"

"Sure it was, if you like an overpriced crouton for dinner. Oh, I'm sorry, I meant _deconstructed salad_."

Judy stepped forward in unison with Nick as they edged closer to the front of the line. "Okay, Mr. Salad Snob. If Misty's isn't good enough, where do _you_ take your first dates?"

Her intent was to fluster him, to put them on more equal ground. But to her annoyance he merely shrugged. "Depends on the date."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I do my research, Carrots. I find out what she hasn't tried, what she wants to do. And then I plan accordingly. Make the evening about her and you're guaranteed a second date."

A snarky comment was forming itself but it caught in Judy's throat. She'd never tried sushi. She'd wanted to go ice skating. And now she was staring at him again, and new details were popping out at her like fireworks in a night sky. How soft and subtle blend of red fur was into cream. How his ears turned to her even when he wasn't looking at her.

Now Nick was most certainly was looking at her too, and if her goal had been to fluster then she'd certainly achieved it. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, though if it was from the intensity of her focus, her odd behavior, or the fact that maybe he might have said just a _teensie_ bit too much was hard to say.

"You two lovebirds gonna order or what?"

Both Nick and Judy jumped, breaking eye contact to look at the annoyed zebra behind the counter. Neither had noticed that they had made it to the front of the line.

* * *

Judy knew she should be listening to what Barry was saying. It would be rude not to, and besides, he'd come across as nothing but charming and intelligent. Her sisters would be all over him. But her mind kept slipping into wondering what Nick was up to, and she wasn't sure why. It wasn't like they spent every waking moment together. There were plenty of off-work hours where they went their separate ways.

Then why did she feel so strangely guilty about being here with Barry now? She was a single mammal. Nick was her friend. A very good friend, but it wasn't like she was cheating on him or anything. To be cheating she would have to be his mate, which she most assuredly was not.

Nick was probably just at home, catching up on _Aardvark_ or some other show. Or maybe he was out with Finnick. Maybe they went to a bar. Maybe there were vixens there, who knows. Maybe he'd meet a nice vixen at that bar and then tomorrow night he'd take her to Misty's and then she'd be at home still wondering what he was doing and _good dog, what was wrong with her?_

Judy gave her head a small shake as though that would rattle her odd thoughts right out of her head. Twisting the napkin on her lap in her paws, she put a heroic amount of energy into focusing on the words coming out of Barry's mouth.

"And that's what I like about anesthesiology," he said pleasantly, "It's like math and chemistry combined, really. You need to have just the right dose of anesthetic for the mammal, and every mammal is unique. I mean, to be honest, that's what I'll miss about doing rounds when this is fun. Meeting the different mammals, I mean. There's just so many little things you start to notice when you see new patients every day."

Judy nodded. Little things. Right. She'd been noticing little things too.

Like how her normally laid back partner had snarled at that badger who had kicked her in the stomach when she was cuffing him. How, when Delgato brought his newborn cubs into the precinct for a visit, she'd caught her partner staring at her as she cradled one in her arms. Or how lately her partner seemed to initiate casual contact more and more. A tail swishing her legs when he passed her in the kitchen of his apartment. His chest brushing against her shoulder as he leaned over her to examine some paperwork. His strong forearm grazing her smaller one when he reaching across her steal some of her beet chips.

She wondered what he would do if she initiated some of her own. Would he ignore it? Would he pull away? Or would his tail do that bristling thing it did in the rare event he was caught off guard –

"… Judy?"

She startled, dropping the piece of broccoli she had speared with her fork. "Yes, here!" she sputtered. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

Barry gestured to the fallen broccoli. "I was just asking if your food was okay? You were just… staring at that piece of broccoli for a long time."

Judy picked it back up again. "It's delicious," she assured him.

Their perfectly pleasant dinner ended and became a perfectly pleasant stroll back to her apartment. In a way straight out of the movies, Barry walked Judy to her doorstep.

Barry was saying something to her, but Judy was barely registering it. She hadn't checked her phone in a while – maybe Nick had texted her? She nodded at whatever Barry said, and the next thing she knew Barry was leaning towards her.

Oh. She must have just agreed to a goodnight kiss. Judy contemplated backing out of it for a fraction of a second, but then, well, maybe this was the kick she needed to get out of whatever weird stupor she had found herself in tonight. And Barry had proven himself to be kind, intelligent, and courteous. He was attractive by bunny standards – nice feet, proud ears, white buckteeth. What was the harm? Judy closed her eyes and felt Barry press his lips chastely against hers. And then, unbidden, a single thought, very plain and very clear:

_I wish this was Nick kissing me instead._

Judy jerked backwards as though an electric current had run through her. Lips still puckered, Barry blinked in surprise. "Judy? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

She realized she was breathing heavily considering she was just standing there. Swallowing, she shook her head. "No," Judy said, feeling as though she was coming out of a dream, "No, Barry, you're fine… perfect even, my parents would love you, you have no idea… it's just… I… I think I just realized something."

"Realized something?"

"I think. Maybe. I don't know." Judy squeezed her eyes shut. Opening them again, she took in Barry's concerned, bewildered face. She sighed.

"Look, Barry, I'm so sorry. Tonight was lovely, _you're_ lovely, but I don't think… I don't think I'm as available as I thought I was."

Barry let out a little huff of a laugh and exhaled. "Ah. I gotcha."

Judy's stomach twisted. "I didn't mean to lead you on like this. Here, let me pay you back for dinner – "

Barry waved his paw. "Don't worry about it. I had a nice time. Just give me a ring if you find yourself available again, yeah? Or if you need some more gauze?"

Judy laughed weakly. "I – yes. Of course."

They waved goodbye. Barry hopped down her stairs and didn't look back. Judy didn't even remember the walk back up to her apartment. She didn't remember getting changed or plugging in her phone. The next thing she knew she was laying on her bed, staring at her ceiling, spending the night thinking about her partner in a way that she never had before.

* * *

She was about to hand the cashier her credit card when Nick's paw covered her own. Judy barely swallowed a small squeak. Gently, Nick pushed her paw down and handed the cashier some cash.

"My treat, bunny."

Judy's ears shot up straight. "What?"

"Your coffee. It's on me. Least I can do after your terrible date."

"I never said it was terrible."

"Please. You didn't have to. I can see it in your face. You're looking at me like you've never seen a fox before."

He was nearly correct. In many ways she felt like she'd never seen _this_ particular fox before. In this new, thrilling, terrifying, wonderful light. Judy tried to regain control of her face and reached for one of Nick's tactics. Distraction via light ribbing. "What kind of dates do you go on where you recognize the look of terrible one, hmm?"

Nick grinned down at her. He paused for a moment to give her an appraising, fond look, almost as though he too was seeing her for the first time. "Oh Carrots, wouldn't you like to know?"

He handed her the coffee so that their paws brushed. And suddenly most-determined-first-bunny-cop Judy took over, and she let forefinger trail over his ever-so-slightly on the release. Nick's eyes snapped up to meet hers, and in them was the question she had been asking herself all night. She held his gaze, knowing what her answer was, wondering if he did too.

Nick smiled.


	2. Ocean View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real reason it was so easy for Nick to say he didn't care about interspecies love interests was because he didn't have any. He tended to find vixens attractive, those vixens always (sometimes) found him attractive, and that was that. He never had to question anything. His preferences were all incredibly average. His love life was perfectly normal.
> 
> That is, until he'd decided to take Judy Hopps to the beach and found that he couldn't stop staring at her tail.

It was generally agreed upon that some mammals of every species were just objectively attractive. Take Gazelle, for example. Anyone, from mouse to elephant, would admit that she was gorgeous. Even Nick had no shame in admitting it (though he wasn't sure if he could be so magnanimous about her music).

Nick fancied himself a pretty liberal mammal. A "whatever floats your boat" kind of fox. He'd lived in the city for his entire life. Families came in all shapes in sizes in Zootopia, literally and figuratively. He'd seen shrews dating weasels, zebras hoof-in-hoof with wildebeests, and had never batted an eye. Why should he? They weren't harming anybody. He'd even tried to make a buck off it once. So you were an ocelot who was interested in that pretty little minx over there? No problem, fifty dollars and "I know everybody" Nick Wilde would be happy to teach you everything you needed to know about another species to get a dinner date. But when he'd pitched his "love coach" idea to Finnick, Finnick reached for the baseball bat.

The real reason it was so easy for Nick to say he didn't care about interspecies love interests was because he didn't have any. He tended to find vixens attractive, those vixens always (sometimes) found him attractive, and that was that. He never had to question anything. His preferences were all incredibly average. His love life was perfectly normal.

That is, until he'd decided to take Judy Hopps to the beach and found that he couldn't stop staring at her tail.

It had started innocently enough. Almost disgustingly innocent, in fact. All it had taken was the train ride from his academy graduation back to Zootopia.

"Oh, there it is," Judy sighed, gazing out the window.

Nick, who'd been scrolling through emails on his phone, twitched an ear her way. "There what is?"

"The beach."

"Oh. Yeah," Nick grunted, only half paying attention. How could he have this many emails from the ZPD before he'd even started?

"I've never been to the beach."

"What, Canal Beach?"

"No, any beach."

It took a moment for that to click. "Wait, come again? Carrots, you've never been to _a_ beach? At all? Ever?"

The beach now well out of sight, Judy tore herself from the window and shrugged. "Hard to pull off a family vacation when there's almost three hundred of you. My dad would take us out by litter every once in a while, but usually we'd just go camping."

"You're your own bunny now. You don't need a permission slip to go the beach. You just hop onto the train after work and you're there."

"I can't go to the beach by myself, that would be so lame!" She scrunched her nose at him as she said it, and it nearly bowled Nick over with how endearing it was. It struck him in that moment how much he had missed her while he was at the academy.

He'd meant to say something snarky in response, something like "lamer than how you framed the first parking ticket you issued?" But he was so wrapped up in the moment, in her, in how she'd just pinned a badge on his chest, in how he actually had someone to miss now, and that maybe he had someone who missed him back. This moment of sentiment cost him, and instead Nick found himself blurting, "I'll take you."

Which is how he found himself in the present, sprawled out on a towel meant for a single hippo, surrounded by warm sand, aviators on, watching his soon-to-be partner take in the ocean for the first time in her life. And watching certain parts of her more than others.

Ironically she was surprisingly… covered up. She'd chosen to wear her one piece from the academy. Nick had teased her for it initially – supercop, and all that – but Judy had rightfully pointed out that the whole reason they were there was because she'd never been to the ocean before. Why would she have beachwear if she'd never been to a beach? So it was a move of practicality. Nick could appreciate that. It couldn't have been due to modesty, he thought as he watched her, not when she was so tight and curvy in all the right places –

What was _wrong_ with him? For the love of Dog, this was his friend. His future _coworker_. Was it possible to be sent to Mammal Resources before your first day? He'd never had this kind of problem before. Most vixens didn't take well to a wandering eye, and besides, he was raised better than this. He'd never thought he was one of _those_ foxes. He knew that Judy was more than those curves – that she was kind, that she was crafty, that she loved the movie Shrewless, that she believed in him, that she believed in the city, that she wouldn't throw away the ruined jeans she'd torn in the museum because they were her "Nick accepted my apology" jeans –

And yet here he was, hypnotized by the tuft of white that followed Judy as she pranced among the gently lapping waves. Nick blinked, catching himself, and attempted to concentrate on all of her instead. That was enjoyable in its own right: Judy was plainly having the time of her life. She smiled ear to long ear as she dug her toes into the sand, letting the waves swallow them and sink them deeper. She lifted her chin against a gust of salty air, allowing her ears to go limp and whip freely behind her. Judy spread her arms wide, taking it in, arching her back in a way that caused her tail to perk up in the most exquisite –

_Damn it_ , he was doing it again! Nick squeezed his eyes shut and flopped onto his back. He was almost as out of control as teenage Nick had been. Though teenage Nick, ruled by hormones, had not given it much thought. Adult Nick felt wrong. _Knew_ he was wrong. He felt guilty and ashamed and dirty, feelings he was so intimately familiar with but never within this context. He was secretly thankful for the excuse to wear aviators. Even if Judy were to glance back right now she'd have no idea he was staring at her tail (and the uh, _surrounding region_ if he was honest). If she found out, who knows where she'd land on the roulette wheel of possible reactions: shocked, disgusted, upset, embarrassed, frightened, self-conscious, Nick-Wilde-I-do-not-want-to-be-your-partner-anymore… any would be valid.

After all, if he found out she'd been looking at _him_ like that, well… he…

Nick shivered despite the warm sun on his fur. Making headlines by being the first fox cop was nice; he did not need anyone to publish the follow up story, "First Cop To Lose His Partner Before First Day Due To Hitherto Unrealized Proclivities." He took a deep, slow breath, his chest rising as his nose filled with the dual scents of salt and sunscreen. With his eyes shut tight, it was easier for his thoughts to release her, to focus on the sounds of the crashing waves and laughing kits. He didn't even hear her soft footsteps bounding toward him in the sand until she was nearly on top of him.

"A total letdown, I take it?" Nick teased, his eyes still closed.

"Where has this _been_ all my life!" Judy gasped happily.

He laced his fingers behind his head. "Twenty minute train ride away any day of the week."

"You were so lucky to grow up here! Did you just go to the beach every day? I know I would have."

Nick cracked one eye open just in time to see Judy collapse on her half of the over-large towel. She was windswept and elated, her smile competing with the sun as she caught her breath. Her legs tucked underneath her, she used one arm to prop herself up, one ear perked and the other draped alluringly over her jutting shoulder. Grains of sand clung to her feet and there were still a few drops of seawater on her muzzle. Her eyes sparkled as she looked down at him. Nick's mouth went dry.

Because just then he realized that he was completely, without a doubt, one-hundred-percent attracted to a rabbit.

"Nick?"

"Huh?"

She was frowning at him, oblivious to the bombshell he'd just dropped on himself. There she sat, waiting for an answer to her question, while Nick felt as if he needed to gather every bit of himself that had been scattered in the explosion first.

"I – what? Did you say something? I, uh, didn't hear you," Nick stuttered, pushing himself upright. His tail reflexively coiled around his knees but he pushed it away hastily. "You know, ocean noise, kits yelling, burdened with normal-sized ears."

She looked at him skeptically for a moment before deciding to ignore his weirdness. "Har har. I just wanted to know if you went to the beach a lot, since it was basically in your backyard."

"Nope. My mom took me a few times when I was a kit, but after that? I dunno, maybe once or twice to sell some pawsicles."

"What?" Judy scoffed, "That's it? But it's beautiful!"

"Yup," he swallowed, resisting the urge to let his eyes rake her up and down, "it is."

"Why didn't you go?"

He rubbed hard at his muzzle. He felt like he'd been hit upside the head by an elephant's trunk. "Well, when something's been right under your nose for a while, you just… don't always realize how amazing it is."

Judy hummed in understanding and turned back to the ocean. She seemed unable to get enough of it. Nick could relate. Feeling reckless, he remained where he was, soaking in his own view.

His eyes were traveling along her ears when she shot him a shy smile. "Thank you for taking me here."

"What can I say? It keeps me out of trouble. Would hate to get fired before my first day."

"I mean it. This kind of thing must be very 'been there, done that' for you."

Nick shrugged. "I wouldn't say that. I've never been here, done that with someone who had your level of… how should I put this… _enthusiasm_."

She laughed. "Thanks for not calling it 'dorky excitement.'"

"Perish the thought."

"I didn't embarrass you, did I?" Her hands twisted in her lap.

Nick blinked at her, surprised. He hadn't pegged her for being self-conscious. But then he supposed it was somewhat presumptuous to assume he knew everything about her after what, a year? Three months of which they weren't speaking, and nearly another six months that he was off at the academy? They'd spent three months around each other, at best.

Huh. It felt like a lot more.

"Nah," he said, and winked at her. "I liked it." Did he ever.

Her smile was back, proud and genuine. _Gorgeous_. Feeling his jaw drop like a marionette puppet, Nick jumped to his feet abruptly to hide it.

At Judy's curious look, he made a show of acting completely normal. "What kind of partner would I be if I let you be an excited dork all by yourself?" He said, pretending to stretch, "Come on, I'll race you. Last one to the water buys me 'first day breakfast.'"

Judy was on her feet faster than he could have imagined. Laughing, she leapt ahead of him and sprinted toward the waves. Nick tore after her. He supposed if he was going to spend the rest of his days chasing a bunny, he may as well start now.


	3. New Nick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vixens tended to make the first move, so Nick was a little lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify: this is a one shot collection, and not a multi-chaptered story. Each chapter can stand on its own. Thank you for reading!

It was shortly after Nick had returned from the academy that Finnick said it.

"I don't even know who you are anymore, man."

He'd been about to invite Finnick to his graduation. Thankfully, Finnick had dropped that little bomb before Nick could embarrass himself and pop the question.

That night, Nick relayed the story to Judy. He told it under the guise of a joke, and definitely not because he was terrified and questioning everything and desperate for even the slightest bit of cheerleading.

Judy, of course, had come through for him.

"I don't know if he ever knew the real you," she had said. "I think you're becoming the mammal you were always supposed to be."

Nick had teased her for the cheesy answer. He went on to think about that cheesy answer nearly every day since. That was nearly five months ago.

He wondered if that's when it started.

* * *

Nick sighed at his computer screen. Judy, who was hunched over her own computer in the other half of their shared cubicle, twitched and ear in his direction.

"What's up, Slick?"

"Schedule's out," Nick grunted.

"Oooh!"

Judy, whose back was toward him, couldn't see his fond smirk. She was the only mammal he knew who got excited over the release of the new work schedule.

"I'm looking at it now… what's the problem?" she asked after a minute.

"Sorry about Solstice, Fluff. It's my fault."

"What are you talking about?"

He spun around in his chair to face her. She was frowning at him in confusion. "Rookies cover the Solstice shift. Which means _you_ also get to cover the Solstice shift, because you're stuck with this rookie."

Judy waved a paw at him. "You're giving yourself way too much credit. This is barely my second year. I'd be working Solstice no matter who my partner was."

"But a double shift? On _foot patrol_?"

"Double the shift means double the fun!"

She said it without a hint of irony. He stared at her. "There is something deeply, darkly wrong with you. You know that, right?"

"We're lucky to be on foot patrol – we can enjoy all the lights and decorations."

"That's a good point. It'll be fun to admire a really well-placed wreath while we're reading someone their rights."

Judy merely laughed and stuck her tongue out at him before spinning back around to her desk. Nick, on the other paw, found it much harder to return his focus to work. He watched her ears sway for a moment before deciding he'd very much like her attention back on him. "But what about home? Aren't your six-hundred siblings going to be disappointed? There's no way you'll make it to the triburrows after a double shift."

"It's two hundred and seventy-five, and they'll be fine. The farm isn't going anywhere. Besides, I'd much rather stay here and help mammals if I can. There's no good reason you need the ZPD on Solstice Day, so I want to be there for mammals who need it."

Heaven help him, _this bunny_.

"I've had plenty of Hopps' family Solstices anyway," Judy continued, blithely unaware of how much he was aching.

"Seen one you've seen them all, huh?"

"A bit."

Steeling himself, Nick took a breath and, with an enormous amount of careful precision, swiped his tail across her ankles. It was an art form, really – it had to be light enough to appear casual, but noticeable enough to get her attention.

Judy… continued working as if nothing happened.

Pretending he wasn't disappointed, Nick asked, "So, pray tell: what does a good ol' fashioned Solstice on the farm entail?"

This, at last, got her to turn back to him. Her expression warm, Judy gazed upwards, as though the Solstices of her past were projected on the tiled precinct ceiling. "Oh, they were wonderful. My siblings and I would wake up early to see if Santa Claws ate the carrots we left out for him. Then we'd go in the kitchen – Mom always baked dozens and dozens of cinnamon buns. She made them from scratch, they melted in your mouth… _then_ we'd decorate the tree. That was my favorite part. Dad and my brothers always put a big tree in the barn, and I'd pick out my favorite ornaments and find just the right spot for them. One of them was this glass ball that my Gran had painted, and a carrot that my dad had carved… anyway, that night we'd find out what the present that was, and then we'd all drink hot cocoa. Well, _I'd_ drink cocoa, my Grandad would drink eggnog that I'm pretty sure was spiked, because he was a real riot by the time the games started."

"Wait… _present_? As in just one?" Nick asked.

"Well, yeah," Judy said. Then she tilted her head at him in an amused way. "Oh, I forgot, you wouldn't know, it's more of a bunny culture thing. Us kids would all share one big gift – one year we got a new twenty-bunny toboggan, another year Dad announced he was going to dig out a lazy river in the summer, that kind of thing. It's just too much bother to get everyone a gift when there's hundreds of you. That's what you get a date for."

Nick, who had been rocking his chair precariously on its back wheels, had to grab his desk so he wouldn't topple. "Uh, pardon?"

Judy laughed. "Your only real chance of getting a personal gift as a bunny is if you get one from your significant other."

"That's a step away from extortion."

She grinned. "That's bunny culture for you. Every tradition can be traced back to an incentive to get married and start a warren."

"How quaint." And then, before he could stop himself: "Did you and a bunny beau ever do a little gift exchange?"

Nick had asked her with a joking lilt, and expected her to respond in kind. The teasing and cajoling had always worked with vixens in the past. He was hoping for a blush, or maybe a coy glance his way, but instead Judy shrugged with utter indifference. "Once or twice," she said breezily, and turned back to the screen. Completely immune to everything he threw her way, yet again.

Judy asked him something, another question about the schedule maybe, but he didn't hear it. Nick's brain was too busy tossing up questions of his own. So, she had dated before? Of course she had, she was nearly twenty-six, it wasn't that surprising. But who had she dated? And when? For how long? Were they good to her? Did she still think of them?

Were they all bunnies?

* * *

It was six months since Finnick had last spoken to him. Six months since he had told Nick that he was a different fox. And Nick had to say, Finnick was right. But he didn't think it was in the way Finnick had meant it.

Old Nick had his heart broken one too many times, and since then had kept vixens at arm's length. He avoided getting attached, of being tied down to anyone, of feeling responsible to another mammal. Old Nick did not believe in pining or grand gestures. There would be no handing his heart over to someone and trusting that they let nothing happen to it.

This New Nick was... well, there was no way around it. New Nick was falling in love. It wasn't a hard or fast fall. It was more like a snowball rolling down a hill: starting slowly at first, but then gradually picking up size and speed before there was no stopping it. And it was turning him into a fox he didn't recognize. One that was hopelessly sentimental and not at all world weary and cynical.

He was a fox who couldn't stop thinking about a bunny. About the way she laughed, about the way she cared for everyone, about the way she made him feel so seen. He was a fox who had taken to imagining things. Things like what noises would she would make if he ran his teeth along her ear, or what would her toned legs would feel like in between his paws? What would she taste like? Would she like the way he kissed, or would she think his snout was too awkward and long? Would she be afraid of his claws?

Or would she like them?

He imagined futures that involved her. Futures that involved a little house and a little yard for little ones. He was a fox who – it made him nearly gag just to think it – wanted to _settle down_. Well, as much as any mammal could settle down with someone like the perpetually in motion Judy Hopps.

He was a fox who was doing stupid things like texting her silly jokes and nursing hope – the hope that maybe, just maybe, this bunny thought about him too. Sometimes, he suspected that she might. There were gazes that were held for moments too long, flirty lip bites and a night that included a tiny bit of drunken nuzzling. She hadn't been on a date in a while, and she had even turned down that smug Agent Savage from the ZBI. He was now a fox that kept track of these things.

Ridiculous thoughts popped into his head when he least expected him. Did Judy think his tail was thick and healthy looking? Did she think he sounded old when he talked about VHS tapes? Would Judy be okay with an adopted kit, or would she want a litter of her own?

Vixens tended to make the first move, so Nick was a little lost. It was just so much easier when the girl let you know she was interested. Nick had his moves that had never failed him in the past – a tail brushed along the ankles, teasing, suggestive questions. But Judy was not a vixen, and seemed to be an expert letting his moves sail well over her over-sized ears. And really, none of it mattered if she hadn't come to the same realization Nick had: that his romantic interests in regards to species were a bit… less traditional than he'd originally thought.

Still, the Solstice wasn't for another month. Nick still had another trick up his sleeve. A trick so sappy and wholesome, Old Nick would have laughed in New Nick's face.

* * *

The double shift was long, even by double shift standards. Mammals were not happy to see them. They were angry and desperate and hissed and spit. It had been a gloomy day, so much so that Old Nick seemed to mutter snide remarks in his ear. He might have even listened had it not been for Judy by his side. But Judy, in all her "double the shift, double the fun!" glory had a distinct droop to her ears as the metro pulled in to Nick's stop. It was a heartbreaking enough sight that Nick couldn't even find it in him to tease her for the purse she was inexplicably carrying. He didn't even know she owned one.

"Well, it's been a Solstice to remember," he drawled, twisting his back until it popped. They stepped off the train. "Want to come upstairs for a drink? I'm going out on a limb and guessing that you need one."

"I don't know, Nick," she sighed. "You look exhausted. I think I should just let you sleep. You sure you want me to?"

"Well, your Solstice gift is up there, so you kind of have to. It's called a hustle, sweet – yo!"

She stopped so suddenly he had to arch his chest over her head to avoid trampling her. "My – Nick, you got me a Solstice gift?"

"Double shift, remember? It's the least I could do."

"The least you could do was _nothing_. You didn't have to get me anything!"

"Okay fine, guess I'll just give it to Bogo – "

"No no no!" she said hastily, as if slightly worried he wasn't joking. "I haven't gotten my own Solstice gift in… well, a long time. I want to see it!"

Nick grinned at her, teeth glinting in the night. "Lead the way, Carrots."

Despite twelve hours on her feet, Judy sprinted to his building. By the time Nick dragged himself to her side she impatiently holding the door for him. Even if she hadn't told him she hadn't received too many personalized gifts in her lifetime, Nick was sure he could have guessed. Her excitement was palpable. While it should have been encouraging, a toxic whisper of doubt crept into the back of Nick's mind. He'd never considered that he could possibly be setting Judy up to be disappointed. His gift really wasn't that great. It was kind of ugly. And half of it wasn't even new.

But soon enough they were at his door. Realizing that the only thing worse than a disappointing gift was a retracted gift, he shoved the key in the lock. "Eyes closed, Carrots."

He swung the door open and nudged Judy gently forward with a paw between her shoulder blades. Feeling daring, he kept it there, even after he said, "Merry Solstice, Fluff."

Judy opened her eyes and her ears dropped with shock. In the middle of his living room was a scraggly pine tree. A bath towel was swirled around the bottom of it as a makeshift tree skirt, which also served to hide the old phone books he had used to prop it up. It was bare except for the strip of police caution tape he'd strung around it in place of garland (partly as a joke and partially but mostly because he did not own actual garland).

"Nick…" Judy breathed. Her eyes were still on the tree, but a slow smile was beginning to bloom across her face. "You… you got me a Solstice tree?"

"I know it's not going to win any beauty pageants, but I was going for an 'ugly in an endearing way' kind of vibe," he said.

"Well you succeeded," she cooed, "it's perfect."

"Your standards for a tree make me wonder about your half of my performance evaluation."

She approached it, gently running her paw over the needles. Miraculously none of them fell. This was good, considering half of them had fallen while he'd hauled it into his apartment, and he felt it couldn't stand to lose many more. "When did you even find time to get one?"

Nick shrugged. "Last night. It was easy."

It was easy if easy was him calling a connection at a local tree lot, begging a favor out of that connection to save a tree for him until Solstice Eve, texting Finnick to borrow his van, being ignored by Finnick, texting the rest of the precinct until none other than Wolford came rumbling up in his pickup truck, hiding the fact that the tree was for Judy, listening to Wolford's relentless jokes and jeers over Nick having gone so soft he needed a Solstice tree on Solstice Eve, stuffing the tree into the service elevator, and finally dragging it into his apartment at the early hour of three in the morning. See? Easy.

Judy didn't need to know how _easy_ it had been.

He joined her side as a grinning Judy flicked the police tape with her finger. "You didn't have to do this, Nick."

"After that after school special you treated me to about your idyllic Solstice's on the farm? Even I'm not Grinch enough to deny a hardworking bunny a little Solstice spirit – ooph!"

The air was punched out of him as she squeezed him tightly around the middle. Wherever she found the energy for it, he had no idea. But he was grateful for it.

"You're pretty excited considering you haven't even opened your gift yet," he managed to choke out.

She looked up at him, surprised. "Wait, _this_ isn't my gift?"

"This sad little excuse for a tree? Again, we really need to talk about your standards. Of course this isn't your gift. Well, not all of it, anyway."

She smiled again. The sight of her gazing up at him, eyes wide, chin resting just below his chest, it was… well, he was going to be replaying that in his head next time he was alone. "Where is it?" she asked excitedly.

Nick gestured at the tree with his snout. "Where else?"

Grinning shyly, she ducked down to where he'd hidden a small package wrapped in newspaper. "What is it?"

" _Where is it? What is it?_ " Nick mimicked. "Yikes Carrots, you're never going to make detective at this rate. C'mon, just open it."

Judy tore open the paper with childlike glee. It revealed a cardboard box, which she opened with slightly more care. Nick held his breath, doubts having gone from a whisper to a scream –

A small sigh escaped her. With slightly shaking fingers, Judy reverently touched one of the four ornaments inside the box. They were aged and clearly homemade: two bunnies made from purple and green yarn, the painted glass ball, and the small carrot carved from wood. They were nestled neatly in the box in a bed of straw, almost as if that was where they slept.

When Judy did nothing but stare at the Solstice ornaments, Nick cleared his throat. "I uh, called your mom a few weeks ago. I got her number off your phone – your passcode is really obvious, by the way – and I may have asked her to send some of your favorite ornaments this way. You know, to bring a bit of Burrow to Zootopia and start a new tradition. See, you can hang them up, so you won't really be missing out on anything except your nogged-up Grandad… I couldn't get your mom to mail _him_ , something about the transport of someone with that much liquor in them would require a spirit tax and I know how you are… about rules…"

The look on her face made him trail off. Nick wasn't quite sure what it was. Judy didn't seem mad or upset, but she didn't seem happy either. Conflicted, maybe? But why would she be conflicted? The doubts crept up again, flying through him in milliseconds. Was she appalled at his artless and blatant grabs for her attention? Did she, like him, not recognize this fox who had, seemingly overnight, transformed from a semi-cynical grown adult into a lovesick kit? Or, had she sussed out his intentions, the ones that screamed _please see me, please pick me, please love me_ , and recoiled in discomfort?

Without a word, Judy walked to the couch. Nick followed her, paws hiked up to his chest, and watched her with uncertainty. She plucked up her purse, which she had flung onto the couch in her rush to see her gift, and pulled out a small package wrapped in shiny green paper. Nick eased himself onto the couch next to her, still watching her as if she had grown and extra ear.

"I got you something too," she said at last. "I wasn't sure if I should give it to you because, well, I told you what it means in bunny culture and I didn't want to freak you out, but… you're not a bunny, are you?"

Nick had to remind himself to breathe. "No. And you're not a vixen."

"Not quite," she said with a glance at his tail. His heart was pounding. Had she noticed this whole time?

He felt her slide the gift into his numb paws. Peeling back the paper, he found a small scrapbook. Judy had clearly assembled it herself – the binding was sown together with thick, cozy yarn, and there was a hand-drawn leaf on the front that, if he didn't know any better, resembled the pattern on the shirt he'd worn when they'd met. Inside were pictures – one of him before he left for the academy, one of them at her first trip to the beach, one of him and his mother at his graduation…

"I noticed you didn't really have any pictures from your… new chapter in life. I left some of the pages empty on purpose," she said after a moment, "For new memories we haven't made yet."

 _We._ Futures. That involved her and him. Together.

Nick felt both exhausted and filled with energy, scared and terribly excited. Judy was no vixen, but by bunny standards she'd just made quite the first move. They had a dozens of futures ahead of them, and New Nick was looking forward to them in a way that Old Nick could have never even dreamed. Feeling a little less lost, Nick slid his arm around Judy's shoulders and pulled her close. She held him, tight, and together they watched the Solstice lights twinkle outside.


	4. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick knew better than to blame the victim, but still… the last thing he wanted at the beginning of their relationship was to remind Judy that he'd once cornered her against a wall, fangs bared.

Nick had always assumed he and Judy would have to return to the museum one day.

He just wasn't expecting it to happen a week after they'd started dating.

But of course there would be a call about property damage on the museum grounds, and of course there would be security footage to examine, and of course he and Judy would be the first ones with available caseload to take it on. If only they were slightly less talented officers, he mused. Then they might have been too busy.

But they _were_ talented and they were _not_ busy and so there they were, ascending the steps the museum. Nick had not set foot in it since the Nighthowler incident, and he was almost certain Judy hadn't, either. So he watched Judy closely. Partially so he could admire how well she filled out that uniform, but mostly to watch for any tells. A twitching nose. Rapid breathing. Drooping ears. Anything to indicate that someone had definitely tried to kill her here, once, and that returning to the scene may spark something dark and dormant. Forever full steam ahead, Nick doubted she'd ever taken even a minute to reflect back on the events of that day. A minute not rescuing the city was a minute wasted, apparently.

It was a hot day, even by Sahara Square standards, so when a koala in a security uniform greeted them on the museum steps by saying, "Brown out. Sorry, we don't got AC today, officers," Nick barely suppressed an eye roll. Judy, on the other paw, merely chirped, "Not a problem, we don't need air conditioning to solve a crime!"

It was such a Judy thing to say that Nick wanted to tweak her ear. Or stroke it, actually. But he held himself in check. Their relationship was so new, and he was still mastering the urge to touch her at work. Dating Judy was… well, it was better than he could have imagined (and he'd imagined quite a bit). But there was definitely a learning curve. Learning where the other liked to be touched and how, what kind of attention was welcomed and what was smothering. If Nick's sharp ends were okay or not.

Which was why he was sort of resenting the koala that was now emphatically gesturing to grainy security footage. Nick knew better than to blame the victim, but still… the last thing he wanted at the beginning of their relationship was to remind Judy that he'd once cornered her against a wall, fangs bared.

Besides, he'd witnessed how hard she worked every day to be taken seriously. All it would take was one public meltdown and she would be back at square one. But Nick was determined to be a good partner to Judy, in every sense of the word. He kept an ear attuned to her, still vigilant for the first hint of panic. This museum would not get to her, because he was a master at that kind of thing. He would cover for her, make excuses for her, cause a scene to distract from her if he had to… anything to make sure she did not lose an ounce of credibility. He'd have her back, no matter what.

Luckily, Judy seemed perfectly fine thus far. "Can you show us where the damage is?" she asked the koala, and they followed him out of the security office. Nick tugged at his collar, but it only seemed to allow more warm air down his uniform.

They were in the museum proper now, and whisper of recognition hissed down his spine. Sure enough, the first corner they turned and there it was: the pit.

The exhibit had since been finished. Plexiglas panels lined the pit so it was no longer a giant, dangerous hole in the ground waiting to be thrown into. There was a stuffed wolf at the bottom – a massive, beastly looking thing with nothing but bloodlust on its face. But if there was a predator then it must be stalking – yup, there it was. A new, timid looking deer, cowered in the grass. Clearly they had replaced the one he had shredded with his teeth and claws while Bellwether watched…

 _Bellwether_. It occurred to Nick that he was standing exactly where she had been when she'd shot him. This is what he and Judy must have looked like to her. Meek prey and hateful predator. Bellwether stood here, waiting gleefully for Judy to be _murdered_ , to watch Nick – no, not Nick – to watch the _fox_ kill her _._

Nick tried to swallow but his throat was too dry. His heart was starting to pound. When had it gotten so hot in here? He shot a glance to Judy, praying that she didn't see the deer, that she wouldn't remember having to play the timid prey, whimpering in the grass, or that she wouldn't associate him with that ugly, snarling wolf. But she was still dutifully taking the koala's statement, a look of pure concentration on her face, utterly unperturbed by the scene below. Nick nodded to himself. Good. That was good.

Because not two nights ago, he'd had Judy backed up against a wall once again. His paws on either side of her, his nose at her throat. Again. But this time it was so he could plant his lips on her neck.

And now Nick stared into the pit and wondered. Had he frightened her all those months ago when Bellwether laughed above them? She'd had no way of knowing for sure if some Nighthowler hadn't leeched onto the blueberry. Did she wonder? Or worse… did she know it was simply blueberry? And was she shocked at how easily he slipped into savagery, how convincingly he played the part of wanting to eat her?

Because it certainly scared him. Nick Wilde, who never shoved those junior scouts back, who never threw a punch, who had yet to muzzle a perp, who never bit down on anything more than a bugaburger – where had that come from? Where had that Nick been hiding?

And did he frighten Judy two nights ago, by reminding her of it all over again?

But she'd liked it, hadn't she? He played their night again in his head, fast forwarding to the moment he kissed the delicate fur of her soft, warm neck. She'd gasped and then – yes, she'd laughed. Reached for him. Pulled him closer. Sighed his name into his ear, driving him wild –

_Savage –_

His heart was beating so frenetically he thought it must have been audible, like the beat of the bass at a distant club. His uniform suddenly felt incredibly hot and restricting. Attempting to unbutton his collar proved useless. His paws were shaking too badly and wait, why were they tingling? Maybe he should pant. It would be embarrassing, but at least it would help. But then Judy might see his teeth, and Judy might be scared of him, and it would remind her of when he had her backed up against a wall, defenseless, and she would see him for the monster he was and someone wanted him to hurt her, _someone wanted him to kill her._

"Nick?"

Suddenly he couldn't seem to get enough air. It was like that time an elephant had wrapped her trunk around him at the academy, except this time he wasn't let go.

His breaths were coming in rapid, wheezing gasps. The museum blurred. His head swam. He was scrabbling at his collar, desperate to breathe, but he didn't want to use his claws to do it. No, not in front of Judy, no claws ever in front of Judy, _his_ Judy, depending on him in that pit, depending on him not to screw up when he'd been nothing but a screw up his entire life –

"Nick!"

His collar popped open and he sucked in a great gulp of air. He wasn't sure how that happened – he certainly had no control of his paws at the moment. In fact, he wasn't really sure how he'd gone from looking at the pit to sitting on the ground, next to a glass case filled with clay pots, propped up against a wall of cool stone.

"Deep breaths, Nick… just breathe in… and out…"

Nick blinked, and Judy slowly came into focus. She was kneeling in front of him, one paw pulling at the buttons of his collar, the other gently petting his muzzle. Nick shut his eyes and leaned into her attentions. Her soft murmuring was soothing, and after a few deep inhales his heart finally began to slow.

"What happened?" he croaked, too spent to care if he sounded pathetic.

"You had a panic attack," Judy said in a procedural tone, as if she were speaking to a victim she'd just saved.

Nick glanced over her shoulder for the koala. "Where's – "

"I told him the heat had gotten to you," Judy said, "he's going to get you some water."

Nick nodded, feeling more embarrassed by the second. So much for thinking Judy would be the one to lose her cool. Now it was his back to the wall, and it was Judy crouched down in front of him. And now he was the one shaking and frightened, who felt so, so small. Was this what it was like to be hunted?

"I, um, didn't see that coming," he muttered, looking at the floor.

"Does this kind of thing happen to you a lot?" Judy asked softly.

Nick knew she was asking him just as much as an officer as she was a girlfriend. He looked away from her, humiliated. "No. Infrequent enough that I should be able to make a compelling case to Bogo for keeping me on as a metermaid."

"It was the heat," Judy countered.

"Oh come on, Carrots, I was clearly – "

Judy grasped his muzzle so he was forced to look her in the eye. "It. Was. The. Heat," she said, her voice low and serious.

He held her gaze, marveling at her, afraid to speak. Turns out she had his back, too. When he at last mouthed, "thank you," Judy smiled and patted his chin. Her paws dropped to hold his own. Patrons were meandering in the museum behind them, but no one paid any notice to a fox and a bunny huddled together in the corner.

"I never really thought about that day much. After it happened," Nick muttered quietly.

"I know," Judy murmured.

Nick swallowed. "I didn't want to. I was scared out of my mind."

"I know."

"Sometimes I think that's why I acted like that. I mean there are hustles and then there's… I don't know, Judy. I think I made that look too real."

Judy squeezed his paws. "Of course you did. You were protecting me."

Nick blinked and looked up at her. Judy's face was barely inches from his, much too close to be considered just an officer to officer chat. That was risky. If anyone were to look their way, assumptions would be made. But her scent was comforting, and he knew she was risking it for him.

She had his back, again.

"Bellwether was a lot of terrible things, but she wasn't stupid," Judy continued, "If you hadn't been anything other than convincing, she would have picked up on it, and who knows what she would have done then. Everything you did in that pit, you did to keep us safe."

Judy said it with such certainty that he knew she believed it to be true, even if it wasn't. But, now that he thought about it… was it really so absurd?

"You had my back then, just like you have my back now," Judy said. She smiled, slow and sly, then leaned to his ear to whisper, "I saw you watching me before. You're so sweet when you think no one's looking."

Her warm breath in his ear rocketed him back to the other night. The feeling of deep fear was replaced by the memory of Judy holding him tight, of the sheer joy of learning what his best friend felt like beneath his paws. In that moment he'd known that whatever uncertainties their future held, at least he'd get to face them with her.

There was no savage predator in front of him. It was just Judy, _his_ Judy, radiating nothing but concern and love out of those big eyes. She did not seem afraid of him. She certainly didn't seem like she wanted to hurt him. Maybe that's what she saw that day in the museum, too.

Nick obeyed her gentle tug and rose to his feet. His knees felt like they were going to cave for a moment, so it was lucky that Judy was the perfect height to use as a living crutch.

"I'll skip the obvious pun about needing you for support," he muttered, his paw braced between her ears.

Judy laughed and led him back into the hall. The koala was waiting for them with a little cup of water. Unable to help himself, Nick glanced into the pit again as they passed. The deer and wolf were still there, forever bound to act out the hunter and the hunted. But somehow, with Judy's words still humming in his ears, they had changed. The deer didn't seem so helpless. The deer could be prepared, laying in wait, a hunter in her own right, acting the victim in order to use her final take down move. After all, she could concentrate on her enemy knowing that her wolf was on the prowl, ready to defend her at a moment's notice.

He patted Judy softly on the back.


End file.
